


softly

by bodhirooks



Category: The Young Pope (TV)
Genre: M/M, fluff and kisses
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-22
Updated: 2019-03-22
Packaged: 2019-11-27 23:28:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,045
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18200435
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bodhirooks/pseuds/bodhirooks
Summary: “Do you mind me holding your hand?” Lenny’s question was innocent enough, but with a hint of nervousness in his tone. Bernardo smiled.“Not at all. I like it, Holy Father. You have very nice hands.”





	softly

**Author's Note:**

> I just discovered the Young Pope, and I love it! I'm just lucky I have to wait a few months and not two years for the New Pope.
> 
> Enjoy!

“May I hold your hand?”

Bernardo blinked. 

Looking up from beneath the visor of his ebony hat, the cardinal watched the Pope’s face. Lenny’s gaze was downcast, a slight shadow pooling under his eyes. The man seemed tired. He always seemed tired, nowadays. Bernardo wasn’t sure how to help alleviate his pain.

Well. There was the obvious.

“Of course you can, Holy Father.” 

A delighted smile crept across Lenny’s face. Tentatively, as if unsure how exactly to hold a hand, the pontiff reached out, grabbing Bernardo’s wrist - clumsily, like a child - and drawing it from his lap. Interlacing their fingers, Lenny let their hands rest between them, knuckles brushing the warm stone bench.

They sat outside, in the gardens. This particular bench had become theirs, in a way, as if it were a magnet, aligning their beings, becoming their center of gravity. Bernardo enjoyed the time they spent on this bench. The Pope was almost always trying to find an excuse to wander around outside, but in the end always came here, with him. Bernardo considered it an honor.

It was an honor to hold the Pope’s hand, too.

Their confessions had been mutual, clumsy. After Gutierrez returned from New York - after Lenny collapsed - after the crisis the Church had born the brunt of, both men approached the other at the same time, tripping through proclamations of love. Now it was almost too embarrassing to speak of. Instead, they enjoyed their usual silent companionship, as if nothing had happened. As if their love were a moment of desperation, of sorrow, heartbreak, and weakness. Nothing more. 

But Lenny had taken to holding his hand.

Clearly, Bernardo thought, something had changed. 

“Do you mind me holding your hand?” Lenny’s question was innocent enough, but with a hint of nervousness in his tone. Bernardo smiled. 

“Not at all. I like it, Holy Father. You have very nice hands.” 

Lenny smiled, a blush of red rising to his cheeks. “Thank you… You do, too.”

Whatever this was - whether a profound homosocial friendship, or  _ dating,  _ Bernardo liked it. He liked holding the Pope’s hand as much as he liked sitting on this bench with him. And he liked doing both at the same time. Experimentally, the cardinal gave the pontiff’s hand a gentle squeeze. 

Lenny smiled again, glancing away.

“Holy Father?” Bernardo asked, poised with a question of his own. “Does it bother you that someone could see us?” It was a thought that crossed his mind a number of times. Where they sat was very viewable, and the gardens they walked were very public. They’d held hands in these places: hence people must have observed them.

Huffing a laugh, His Holiness shrugged. “No, it doesn’t bother me. I’m sure we have been seen, yes, but I don’t think anyone will say anything about it. That I believe beyond a shadow of a doubt. They wouldn’t dare.” 

“How do you know they wouldn’t dare?” Bernardo inquired. “Many people conflate homosexuality with sex itself. People might assume we’re-” 

“But we’re not, and God knows that,” Lenny interrupted. “Besides, I’m homo _ romantic _ , not homosexual. There’s a distinct difference. And you are too, if I’m not mistaken.” 

Bernardo nodded. The Pope had him there. “Of course, Holy Father. As long as you are comfortable I am comfortable.” 

“Good,” the man approved, straightening up slightly. Lenny tended to hunch over and pick himself up alternately. “Good. I’m very comfortable with this. With holding hands. And I would also be comfortable with-... With-” Abruptly Lenny tucked in his chin, as if he weren’t sure whether he should say what he wanted to say. 

“With what, Holy Father?” Bernardo prompted.

Boldly, Lenny looked Gutierrez in the eye. “And I would be comfortable with kissing, too.” 

His words were firm but quiet, unwavering in their resolve but discreet. Bernardo’s heart skipped a beat. Did Lenny really want to kiss him? He could hardly believe how blessed he was! “I would be too, Holy Father…” he replied, voice barely a whisper. 

Something changed in the Pope’s eyes. Myriad emotions danced across his blue irises, and Bernardo watched with fascination and fondness. Lenny was such a complex being, with such beautiful eyes and a beautiful soul. It had simply taken a while for the man to learn his soul was capable of beauty, just as much as his body was.

Suddenly the Pope stood, and Bernardo stood with him. Releasing Bernardo’s hand, Lenny lead the way from the gardens. Bernardo was slightly confused, but followed dutifully. Whatever was happening, it was new.

A brisk walk took them to the rotunda of the Vatican Museum. It was empty - closed upon the Pope’s request. They’d planned on spending some time here anyway. In the muted light of the rotunda’s entrance, Lenny stopped, turning to Bernardo with earnesty.

“I’d like you to kiss me, Bernardo,” he requested. “Please.” 

Bernardo’s breath caught in his throat. Never did he imagine he’d hear these words, nor had he realized how desperately he wanted to. And now he had, returning the Pope’s heartfelt gaze. Heartfelt and scared. Lenny looked frightened. 

The cardinal never wanted his pontiff to be afraid. Gently, he took both Lenny’s hands in his own, pulling him a little bit closer. Smiling, he waited for a moment. He was looking for a slight nod, a smile in return. He received one, and then Lenny closed his eyes. This was it.

Slowly, Bernardo leaned in. Lenny’s features blurred the nearer their faces grew. Simply because he could, Bernardo planted a kiss on Lenny’s cheek first, then turned his head, kissing his lips. It was a barely-there kiss, just a faint brush. But it was the sweetest thing Bernardo had ever tasted. Lingering for a moment, he pulled back, meeting the Pope’s now-open eyes. 

Lenny looked amazed. Bernardo was just as dazzled. “Do it again,” Lenny demanded. He did so without hesitation, leaning in and pressing their lips together, this time with a little more pressure. 

Now it was Lenny who broke the kiss, a broad smile on his lips. “Thank you…” he breathed. “I really liked that.” 

Bernardo chuckled, still holding both the Holy Father’s hands. “I did too, Your Holiness. I did too.” 

Needless to say, kissing became a regular thing after that.

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on Tumblr @androgynousmeme


End file.
